


Sweet Things

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Food Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian tries to teach Fenris skills he'll need to live as a free man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yarnandtea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/gifts).



Chocolate sauce was meant for decoration and flavor. Fenris decorated the pale line of Sebastian’s throat and appreciated the flavor when he licked it off. He could taste the sweet smoothness of the chocolate and the somewhat bitter bite of Sebastian’s sweat and skin. Fenris closed his eyes, sucking a bruise darker than the chocolate on Sebastian’s throat. 

“Ah, Fenris,” Sebastian gasped. Slender fingers gripped his hair, tipping his face away from Sebastian’s throat as gently as the archer could manage. “I am supposed to be teaching you how to bake, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Fenris said, “I am only attempting to… liven up your demonstration. There are few strategies that work better than positive reinforcement.”

Sebastian chuckled, his fingers leaving Fenris’ hair to press against the bruise on his throat, still slick with Fenris’ spit. “Yes,” Sebastian said, “But before I can give you positive reinforcement you really need to… well… _do something._ ”

“What are you talking about?” Fenris asked. He gestured to the large bowl sitting on the counter, filled with the chocolate sauce he had heated and stirred until it felt like his entire arm might fall out of its socket. He moved his hand over the counter, pointing to the small bowl of cherries he had collected the day before, while Sebastian had lazed nearby daydreaming under the cherry trees. 

“As I recall, you were given positive reinforcement last night for that. If that’s what we’re calling it now.” Sebastian wrapped his arms around Fenris’ waist and settled his chin against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss, chaste and gentle, to the bit of skin between Fenris’ shoulder and neck. 

“I’ve no use for this skill,” Fenris sighed. “What good is baking when I am being hunted? What will I do when Danarius finds me, offer him a bit of pudding? Yes, that will make things better.”

“You are a free man,” Sebastian said. “You cannot keep living your life as though you’re still a slave. _If_ Danarius finds you, I will plant an arrow in his heart and that will be the end of it.” His tone was dark, murderous, before instantly brightening. “Now,” Sebastian said, “Let’s get to work on the dough, shall we?”

****  
They were skills that Fenris needed. Not necessarily to survive – Sebastian felt sure Fenris was capable of surviving just fine with the skills he already possessed – but to _thrive._ The longer Fenris lived beneath the cold, long shadow of Danarius, the longer he remained sure it was only a matter of time before his former master returned and dragged him back to Tevinter, the deeper Fenris would close himself off. The easier it would be for the elf to remain as nothing more than a squatter in Hightown, with no friends and no lover and nothing to do but wait for the collar to close around his throat. 

Sebastian wanted more for him, but it didn’t matter what he wanted. What mattered was what _Fenris_ wanted. If the man believed he was enslaved already, there was nothing Sebastian could say or do to change his mind and his heart. 

“You have been practicing,” Sebastian said, thumbing through the small stack of vellum on Fenris’ table. He could see the elf had written his own name several dozen times, nearly illegibly. And then, towards the back, Sebastian spied _his_ name. He pulled the vellum out, smoothing it down. Over and over, all down the page, was his name in crooked lettering. Misspelled, blotted with too much ink, or by a hand that had pressed too roughly. Sebastian smiled, looking at Fenris from the corner of his eye. “You’ve been writing my name,” he said. His voice betrayed him – it was too warm, too tender. Sebastian swallowed and looked back down at his name – Sebastan Veal, which seemed as close as Fenris could come to getting his name right – and felt his heart beating fast and hard against his ribs.

“You told me I should practice,” Fenris said. “And to practice writing things that I am familiar with, or that bring me… Hmf… ‘Some kind of joy’. I could think of nothing but you.”

It was amazing how deeply Fenris could touch him without any effort. For Fenris, it was the same as announcing the sky was blue, it wasn’t something he struggled with, or a truth that needed to be agonized over.

Sebastian wished he could have been so open, so forthright. He was held back by his faith and his duty, his tongue tangled with his vows and his oath, his throat blocked by his responsibility. He wondered why he could not love Fenris, out in the open. He wondered why he had to hide, why he had to feel ashamed to be with a man who set his heart and his mind on fire, and who scorched his soul. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Sebastian whispered. He cleared his throat, setting the vellum down and picking up the book sitting on Fenris’ table. “You’ve been reading as well?” Sebastian looked at where the page had been marked, more than halfway through the novel, and smiled widely. “You’re doing remarkably well,” Sebastian said, “I’m impressed.”

“I am not bettering myself to impress you,” Fenris snapped. He sighed, heavily, and tightened his fingers against his palms. “I’m sorry,” Fenris said, softly, “I am just… None of this will matter, Sebastian. When he comes---“

“He’ll pay for what he did to you,” Sebastian interrupted, “It’s as simple as that. Beyond that, well… what happens after that will be _your_ choice. No one else’s.”

Fenris chuckled, a little bitterly, and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “Yes, because things are always so simple. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Sebastian, but things have a way of… falling apart, particularly where I am concerned.”

“Tell me though,” Sebastian said. He wanted to sound nonchalant, to at least appear nonchalant, so he kept the book in his hands, running his finger down the smooth leather spine. “If you could go anywhere, do whatever you wish… what would you do?”

Fenris was silent for a long while; long enough for Sebastian to assume he hadn’t heard his murmured question. And then he said, quietly, “I would go someplace where I could live without fear. Where I could find some kind of peace, if that’s even possible now.” Fenris looked up, his eyes beautiful, almost too beautiful for Sebastian to meet. “I would take you with me,” Fenris said.

Sebastian laid the book down, not sure what he meant to do, or say, not sure what he _could_ do or say. All he knew was that he needed to be closer to him, he needed to feel Fenris all over him, as close as he could be until they either melted together or forced one another to burn to dust. 

“Would you come with me?” Fenris asked. Sebastian’s lips touched his brow, his cheek, his jaw and throat. Sebastian swore a promise against Fenris’ collarbone, palm spread flat over his chest to feel the slow, steady beating of his heart. He swore that he would, that he would always be with him, even when Sebastian knew it was a lie, as heavy and toxic on his tongue as poison.

Sebastian slipped himself close to Fenris’ body, letting his mouth rest on the hollow of his throat. He moved between his thighs, lean and muscular, and Fenris’ fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails leaving marks over freckles and faded scars. For a little while, they were together, in one body, sharing one breath, melding into one skin. For a little while there was heat and sweat and trembling lips and quivering muscles. For a little while, in the dark, with only the soft glow of Fenris’ brand to mark his way and guide him through, there was only the two of them.

“I would go wherever you led me,” Sebastian whispered, voice deep and slurred with passion and exhaustion against Fenris’ ear. 

That it was a lie mattered little; it was a sweet lie, a lie Fenris was happy to believe, and one Sebastian was happy to tell.

****

Fenris sat outside the Chantry with his head in his hands. He was not concerned with anything more complicated than drawing breath and feeling his heart beating. Those were things he could focus on, things that required no effort and no attention. What had happened with Danarius, with his sister, were not things Fenris wanted to think about. Instead he lifted his head up and looked at the stars, their brand as bright against the black sky as his own was against his dark skin.

When he heard the footsteps behind him, he did not look around. He knew who it was, knew that there was only one person who would find him, who would search for him when the others simply let him be. 

“You are free now,” Sebastian said, sitting down beside Fenris. He looked at the elf before following Fenris’ gaze up to the sky. “There is nothing holding you back now.”

“Is freedom so terrible?” Fenris asked. “Is it such a poisonous thing? Does every man have to tear out his heart and crush it under his boot before he finds freedom?”

“I trust you’re not speaking about Danarius---“

Fenris spat beside Sebastian’s boot, and Sebastian chuckled when most men would have excused themselves from such aggression. “No, not Danarius,” Sebastian said, “Your sister, then?”

“I wanted to rip her heart out as she did mine,” Fenris said. “I _wanted_ that. A man like that deserves no freedom. A man like that…” Fenris sighed, shaking his head, “He is no better than a rabid dog. No better than a feral _little wolf_.”

Sebastian remained silent. Fenris shifted uncomfortably, cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck. After a few minutes, he reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s thigh tightly. “Is this what your Chantry teaches you? To let someone feel like a monster while you sit and stare at the stars?”

He smiled, reaching into the pouch at his hip and pulling out a crumpled bit of vellum. Sebastian smoothed it, gently, taking great care not to tear the bit of paper. “A rabid dog, a feral wolf… a monster would not do this for me. A monster would not sit huddled over a scrap of vellum, squinting in candlelight, and work so tirelessly just to write these words to someone.”

Fenris took the vellum and saw his own crooked writing on the paper. ‘I love you’ was written over and over, in varying sizes and legibility. He remembered how he had hunched over the paper, fingers that were better suited to close over the hilt of a sword trembling around the pen, sweat building on his brow from the simple task of writing a few words down. Yet they had been important words, words that his tongue was too clumsy and too heavy to say, words that had bled from his heart to his fingertips. 

“That is… not enough to prove anything,” Fenris said. “Even monsters fall in love. It would have been better for you if you had never met me.”

“I will listen to anything you have to say,” Sebastian said. He took Fenris’ chin into his fingers, tilting his face up. “I am here for you, whatever you need, whatever burdens you need to lay down. But I will not hear such things from you. If I had never met you… You don’t understand at all, Fenris. I would be half the man I am now. I wouldn’t be _complete_. If you love me, then love me enough to trust me. You are a good man, better than you give yourself credit for. You are not a monster.”

Fenris pulled away from Sebastian, turning away from him. “Varania… Varania has returned to Tevinter. Danarius is dead. You were right when you said there was nothing keeping me here. I am free, even if it doesn’t feel like it should. I… could go anywhere I wished to now.”

“Yes,” Sebastian said, “Anywhere you like, Fenris.”

He waited for Fenris to ask him if he would be joining him. He waited for him to ask where they would journey, how far they would go, if they would be together forever. Fenris never asked, and Sebastian was never forced to offer him more sweet, pretty lies. Instead, Fenris stood from the steps and dusted his hands off on his backside. He looked down at Sebastian with something in his eyes Sebastian couldn’t place. Something between heartache and desperation, if there was even a difference.

“Come and see me tomorrow,” Fenris said. “I would like another lesson.”

“Lesson?”

“Well, if I am going to live free, I suppose I have the time to learn how to bake cupcakes.” Fenris chuckled, reaching down to run his fingers through Sebastian’s hair, forcing it to fall in waves around his eyes and cheeks. “Just… don’t make me wait too long. I’m eager to learn.”

Sebastian licked his lips, feeling his face heat up when Fenris’ thumb caressed over his wet bottom lip. “I won’t make you wait,” Sebastian said, “I promise.”

 

****

The cupcakes sat crookedly and were a little dry. With the right amount of icing no one would ever be the wiser. Fenris managed to make it through his lesson with minimal complaining, even surprising Sebastian by laughing when they pulled the cupcakes out and found them tilting to the side. 

“Well, practice has always served me well,” Fenris chuckled. “I suppose it is the same when making cupcakes.”

Sebastian took a bit of one, licking the icing from his lips. “You did well,” he said, “They’re delicious.” He held the cupcake out, smiling a little crookedly – perhaps a little salaciously, though Sebastian wasn’t aware of it – as Fenris took a bite and smeared his mouth and nose with chocolate.

He leaned forward, licking up the frosting from Fenris’ lips, kissing it from his nose. Fenris cupped Sebastian’s hips, purring a bit in his chest, tilting his face up for more attention. Sebastian was happy to give it to him, pushing Fenris against the wall, hooking a thigh around his hips, pressing tight enough to feel Fenris’ pulse beating rapidly.

Fenris looked at him implacably; his lips were still smeared with icing, eyes still filled with that tenuous emotion Sebastian couldn’t quite place.

“You won’t come with me,” Fenris said. Not a question. 

Sebastian held Fenris’ wrists over his head, pinned against the wall. His thumbs shifted, felt his blood beating under his fingertips. He closed his eyes and sighed, resting their brows together, surprised when Fenris didn’t push him away, when he didn’t try to slip from his touch.

“No,” Sebastian said.

Fenris kissed him, roughly, opening Sebastian’s mouth with his tongue. Sebastian grunted into him, aligning their hips, rocking forward. Fenris broke the kiss to growl, gripping Sebastian’s hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. He leaned in to bite and suck, tightening his fingers and tugging harder when Sebastian tried to tilt his head.

“Fenris,” Sebastian gasped, “Mmn, you---“

“I am leaving,” Fenris said. His breath was hot against the dark bruise on Sebastian’s throat, his fingers loosening in his hair. “I don’t know… another way to tell you goodbye. To tell you that… being with you… loving you has been the best… the most important… I just---“

Sebastian nudged his nose against Fenris’, cupping the back of his neck. He kissed him, softer, less tongue, more heat. Fenris’ jaw tightened, and a harsh shiver worked through him. He was fighting something, tears or screaming or grabbing Sebastian by his shirt and demanding he come with him. In the end, Fenris’ pride trumped everything else, and all he could do was hold onto Sebastian and melt into the kiss. 

All he could do was move closer and trust himself to Sebastian’s hands one last time. 

****

“When will you leave?” Sebastian asked. He didn’t want to broach the subject, didn’t want to rub salt into a wound that would likely never heal, but he had to know. He had to know how much time was left, how many times he could enjoy being in Fenris’ arms and listening to his heart beating and feeling his skin rub against him.

“I won’t,” Fenris said.

“Fenris---“

“Isabela told me something a long time ago,” Fenris said. “She told me that freedom is the choice you make when you’re the most afraid. That freedom is more than being out from chains and away from hands that hurt you. That it’s… turning to face the tiger head-on, no matter how afraid you are that you might be swallowed up. It’s deciding to put down roots somewhere, to not be blown about by the wind.”

“She was drunk when she told you that, wasn’t she?”

“Very much so,” Fenris said. He tried not to smile and failed. “But good advice is good advice, no matter how many pints of ale come before it. So I want to stay here, to try and make a home here, the best that I can.”

“Do not stay for me,” Sebastian said. “I’m not worth that.”

“You are,” Fenris murmured, “But that isn’t the point. I’m staying for myself as much as I am for you. I’m staying to prove to myself that I can let myself be still, that I can let myself be safe. That I can let myself just… be home.”

Sebastian pressed a kiss to the center of Fenris’ chest, right over his heart. That was his home, he supposed, as surely as the Chantry was. A home was more than bricks and foundation; it was where you were most welcome, most comfortable, where you could rest when the world was too cruel and too relentless. 

“I suppose this means you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to make a decent cupcake,” Sebastian chuckled.

Fenris smirked, leaving a kiss – a little too wet – on Sebastian’s brow. 

“I suppose this means you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to be a better teacher,” Fenris said.

“Touché,” Sebastian laughed.

That was freedom, Sebastian thought. 

It was Fenris’ smile and Fenris’ eyes and Fenris’ laughter, deep and sultry against the darkness. 

It was being okay with not being okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for yarnandtea. <3


End file.
